


Mine!

by wings128



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Sam, Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, Finger Sucking, M/M, Possessive Sam, Rough Sex, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wings128/pseuds/wings128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam’s gonna make Dean understand who he belongs too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge - "Angry Sex"
> 
> [](http://s1343.photobucket.com/user/Wings128/media/Art/r11wings128bedtimestoriesrunnerup_zpsfc0c6af7.png.html)

“Where the hell’ve you been?” Sam growled into the back of Dean’s neck as he yanked jacket and overshirt down to bunch at Dean’s elbows and shoved Dean forward; nineteen-seventies Formica cool against his cheek.

“Offering it up to everyone! I’m sick of it, Dean, no more! You’re mine.” Sam’s meaning crystal clear in the close hot breath stirring the soft hair at his nape, sending tremors along every single one of Dean’s nerve endings. 

“Mine!” Sam’s fucking huge hands defining his words as he tugged dean’s belt from it’s loops; peeled tight denim down lean bowed legs, fingernails scratching thin skin over sensitive hips and exposing high-riding curves and the shadowy crevice between.

“Sammy,” Dean threatened, his own anger rising to meet his brother’s, hips thrusting in an abortive attempt to get free.

“Yeah,” Sam gloated, a hand fisting tight, pinning Dean down while the other kneaded, lifted and parted Dean’s ass; cool air breathing at his hole.

Dean tried again, shameful heat flushing vulnerable skin, unable to escape his brother’s furious grip, and hogtied by his own tangled jeans.

“Yeah, I know you want it.”

Dean couldn’t help the shudder of want at Sam’s rough palm pushing the green of his tee higher, following the line of his spine. His cock, hard and already weeping, held down by the edge of the table, throbbed and ached for touch; the rough practiced touch of hands that handled shotguns and knives alike. He groaned at the thought, struggling against Sam’s will because he had to, wanted to; needed to feel Sam at his back.

“I got you.” Sam had leaned over him, hips grinding, twisting to align denim-covered cock; dragging painfully against Dean’s rim, stretching before easing back and Dean moaned with relief and loss.

“No lube, just your own spit Dean, and it won’t be enough.”

Two of Sam’s long fingers pushed past Dean’s softly parted lips, wiggled demandingly over his tongue. A silent order for him to suck. He arched his neck, eager to take more, felt his jacket pull tight into his biceps as he licked, slurped and sucked juicily along and down to the webbing between.

“Fuck,” Sam’s body crushed down heavy and Dean’s own fingers tangled awkwardly in Sam’s tee, in a feeble attempt to keep his Sasquatch of a brother on him; to feel Sam’s moans in his ear with each tongue swirl over the salty fingertips filling his mouth.

“Enough,” Sam yanked his fingers free, dragging a protesting moan of loss from Dean’s spit-slick lips.

Sam laughed, the fucker, broke from Dean’s tenuous hold, leaving Dean light and cold and wanting his brother back over him. He wriggled, searched for whatever Sam would give him. He didn’t care how he looked, bent ass-up over a table that couldn’t possibly be used to this kind of treatment; leather, cotton, and denim hobbling him as effectively as rope and chain. His cock hard and leaking and untouched; his ass on offer and being spread open. 

Dean whimpered, he didn’t do this, didn’t lay himself bare – for anyone.

“Ahhh, fuck!” Dean arched both away and into the sudden plunge of those wet slurpy digits, felt his hole open then fold around them, even as the pale pink flesh worked to eject the intrusion.

“Relax!” Sam ordered, pressing his hips in close, giving no quarter, going deep in one long insistent drive; tips, first knuckle, second, base.

Dean hissed, pushed back, the burn forcing heat through his belly, cock twitching to be included as Sam pumped on a long slow withdrawal; sudden in-stroke that ooomphed Dean’s breath. Crooked tips, a blaze of pleasure, burn and stretch of scissored retreat. 

“Sammy, want…” Sam grazed Dean’s sweet spot, stealing both speech and breath.

“You’ll take what I give you, Dean.”

Sam pulled his fingers free, Dean’s hole pulsing, gaping and empty, so empty; the echo of Sam’s touch more painful than it’s presence within his needy flesh.

“Don’t move.” It was a command Dean had no desire to ignore as Sam’s restraining hand lifted from his back, wrists still twisted in secondhand leather and plaid.

The soft grate of a zipper, soft slide of denim and Dean couldn’t hold back a groan of want, couldn’t resist an impatient circle of his hips to ease the pressure against his neglected cock; cool air stirring over the desperate pulse of his hole – empty and ready. “Please Sammy, just…”

“I’m giving the orders Dean,” Sam hissed, his anger thrilling Dean more than he’d ever admit. “And you love it.”

Dean couldn’t deny it. He’d never admit it though, never give Sammy bragging rites. He huffed a sound, half amusement, mostly need and want and hunger. Sam’s huge hands were on his hips, fingers digging deep and yanking Dean back; spongy head nudging and retreating with both promise and threat against him.

“You gonna keep me waiting all day, little brother?” He taunted, always the elder brother, even in this – especially this.

It was enough, the tipping point. Sam shunted his hips, cock breaching Dean unguided, punching through and stretching, filling, sinking. Dean bucked, every muscle, every fibre rejecting the invasion of Sam’s monster cock splitting him wide. It felt fantastic, everything Dean needed, skewered on his brother’s cock; open and vulnerable, pinned and taken. No where to go, no escape from the fucking Sam was going to give him.

“Sammy!” His brother’s name, soft and breathless in his aching throat, warming his chest and drifting back to the man working himself deep; rubbing against Dean’s insides and sparking pleasure so teasing Dean chased it with his hips. Hungry to feel it again and again and again with each powerful drive of Sam’s hips.

“So tight Dean, so fucking sweet!” Sam grunted through his words, attention on watching Dean’s tiny pink hole open wide and swallow his massive dick whole. The more he fed it, the more Dean opened, the further he sank inside his brother, the more Dean writhed; impaled on Sam’s dick and loving it.

Sam shuddered out a groan, rhythm stuttering before driving hard; hand yanking Dean back onto him, plowing deeper still and feeling the clutch of too-dry flesh gripping his length. His own hole twitched at how it must feel for Dean, and Sam fucked harder, drove both of them closer; the constant squeak of the protesting table filling his ears.

Dean couldn’t think, Sam was fucking his brains into a puddle at the base of his skull. He didn’t know if his legs – or the table’s – would hold him up much longer. Lightning was sparking low in his spine, spreading in licks of white hot heat through his belly, down to his balls, his achingly hard cock.

“Please…” he begged on a huff of air so quiet he didn’t think Sam would hear. _“Please.”_

“I gotcha Dean.” Sam breathed back, anger stripped from strangled syllables by impending release, as he dropped a hand to fist Dean; tight and unrelenting, harsh, and so goddamn perfect. 

“Oh, fuck…Sammy!” Dean choked around the kick of pleasure and precome Sam’s grip squeezed out of him. “Gonna come, gonna c-”

Sam laughed, sound cut off as Dean’s body clenched around him, halting his movement, triggering and milking his own climax with each flex of now-slick flesh. His hips giving abortive shoves as he held them together, tight and close, joined, one. “Mine!”

~*~

“Dean?”

Dean slowly opened eyes he hadn’t remembered closing. “Yeah, I’m here.”

He felt the weight at his back grow heavier with Sam’s relieved sigh. “Gerroff me man, heavy.”

“What if I don’t want to get off you Dean?” Sam’s voice came soft and teasing against Dean’s ear as his brother shifted his hips, zipper grazing the backs of his thighs. 

Dean startled, lingering shards of pleasure-pain striking deep in his abused ass where Sam still filled him.

“Mine.” Sam rumbled the solitary word, its echo vibrating into Dean, warming him, possessing him so completely. 

“Yeah, sure dude, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Dean tossed back, knowing Sam’d take the bait.

“Mine!” Sam growled, bucking his hips and sliding his half hard cock right over Dean’s sweet spot.

 _“Fuuuck,”_ Dean gasped, shock of pleasure robbing him of thought and speech.

“Dean?” Sam dragged back only to grind forward again, drilling mercilessly into tender flesh as he licked a stripe up Dean’s arched neck.

“Yours!” Dean caved as he pushed into the sweet sweet torture moving inside him. “Always yours.”


End file.
